Date: Wed, 22 Jan 2003 20:12:07 EST
From: NJRimzu@aol.com
Subject: Billy and Danny-Freshman Year, Chapter2

Billy and Danny-Freshman Year

This is a story of love between two young men. If you are under age, or
live in an area where reading tales of male sex is illegal, or if you're
not into this type of story, please leave. The story begins in 1969. While
the characters and their story are completely fictional, it is set at
places that are real and is told against a backdrop of some real events.  I
have placed our two protagonists in Demarest Hall; Room 320 As far as I
know this is a non-existent room in a real dorm. If the room actually
exists, this story has nothing to do with whoever might have been living in
it that year. This was a time when all sex was safe. It isn't now, so
please respect yourself and others enough to always play safe.  Comments
are appreciated at NJRimzu@aol.com Sept. 1

Danny

After the emotional roller coaster ride all day yesterday, the end seemed
so easy. William and I attended a seemingly never-ending orientation
program in the sweltering gym and then went back to our room. Though I
always wore pajamas at home, it seemed William slept in his underwear, so I
decided to copy him, hoping to look less of a nerd. After we were in bed, I
turned out the light and just lay there for a minute, feeling practically
naked under the sheet.

"Good night, white boy."

I took a deep breath and replied, "Good night, black boy."

He chuckled softly and we both fell asleep.

I don't know how much later it was when I was awakened by this horrible,
bone-chilling noise, a sort of moaning cry. Totally disoriented, it took me
a few seconds to remember where I was and realize that the noise was coming
from William's bed. I turned on the light and saw him curled up in a fetal
position, trembling, and emitting that horrible sound, over and over. I
went over and sat on the edge of his bed and gently shook his shoulder. He
shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide open and wild looking, breathing
like he'd just run a marathon. After a minute he calmed down and began to
apologize.

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. I guess I should have told you that I sometimes have
nightmares.  It's just that it's been so long since I had one, I don't
think about them much anymore."

"Do you want to talk about it? Would that make it easier?" I remember I
used to have the same strange recurring nightmare when I was a kid for a
long time, but it had been years and I had never talked to anyone about
them, they just went away.

"I wish I could, but I have no idea what they are all about. I used to wake
up the whole family screaming as a kid, and have never been able to
remember anything about them. I just wake up terrified, and that's it for
the night. They keep coming back all night.

Whenever I was under pressure, they'd pop out. But once I grew up, they
went away. I guess the pressure of being here is more than I realized."

Hesitantly, I put my arms around him and gave him a strong hug. "I guess
we've both got some adjusting to do. Try to relax. I'm here for you if you
need me."

I went back to my bed and turned out the light. It seemed I'd barely fallen
asleep when that horrible cry woke me again. I crossed over to his bed and
this time there were tears running from his closed eyes. Without thinking,
I slipped under his sheet and lay down behind him, wrapping my arm around
him.

I whispered in his ear, "It's all right Billy, you're safe. Everything's
going to be okay.  Nothing can harm you. I'm here for you."

I kept repeating myself and he calmed down and eventually fell asleep. Next
thing I knew it was broad daylight, I was still nestled behind Billy and my
usual morning erection was pressing against his briefs in the crack between
his cheeks. I was horrified. I had spent the night in his bed. What would
he think? What would he do to me? I eased my way out of his bed, grabbed my
robe and towel and went down the hall to the showers.

As soon as I got into the shower, I began to masturbate, thinking of how
his body felt against mine. It was early, no one else was around and I took
advantage of it. I leisurely stroked my hard penis, using plenty of soap to
make it all the more slippery and pleasurable. I very quickly ejaculated,
remembering the feel of his skin against mine. I then deliberately took a
long shower, giving him a chance to wake up alone. After about 10 minutes
he walked in, hung up his robe on a hook and joined me. The shower was just
one big tile room, maybe 8" by 12", with four showerheads along each of the
long walls.  I was paranoid about having spent the night in his bed, and
didn't know if he knew I had.  And I was afraid of getting turned on in his
presence in spite of my recent orgasm. But it was my first chance to see
him naked and I wasn't going to miss it. I kept my back to him, but I kept
glancing over my shoulder to catch a glimpse here and there. We were about
the same size, the same build, though he seemed to have better muscle
definition.  And though it was soft, his penis was definitely bigger than
mine. And his whole body was such a fine, rich brown color. I had to stop
looking because I was showing definite signs of new arousal.

He was the one to break the silence. "Thanks for staying with me last
night. That's the first time the nightmare hasn't lasted all night. I know
it was an imposition on you and maybe seemed kind of queer, but I want you
to know I appreciate how you helped me."

I gulped at his use of the word queer, but managed to murmur, "No
problem. Just don't make a habit of it, black boy."

"One more thing. It's okay if you call me Billy. Just don't let it get
around."



Billy

Oh, Christ what a night. Of all times for it to happen. It's been years and
I thought they were over, just some horrible mysterious part of my
past. But apparently demons don't ever leave you alone. Just trick you into
thinking everything is okay and then pounce when you least expect
it. Though I should have expected it. The most frustrating part is that I
have no idea what it is all about. I wake up terrified, about to piss in my
pants and have no idea why.

And how did that wimpy white boy manage to deal with it so well? Mama, with
all her loving care never relieved the fear the way that he did. He just
seemed to know exactly what to say and do. And waking up with his body
pressing against mine, his arm around me, his hard dick pressing against my
ass, I've never been so turned on in my life. Must have been awkward for
him when he woke up. He slipped out of bed, grabbed his robe and towel and
was out of the room like a shot.

As soon as he left the room, I pulled my rock hard dick out of my underwear
and began stroking it in a frenzy, thinking about that smooth, sweet white
boy pressed up against me and his hard dick poking my ass. I came all over
myself and cleaned up with my tee shirt from yesterday that was lying on
the floor. Oh fuck. How am I going to go a whole year living with a boy who
can make me cum in seconds?

He still hadn't come back from the bathroom, so I decided to take advantage
of that and see if I could catch my first glimpse of him naked. As I
stepped into the shower room, he had his back to me. My eyes immediately
focused on his cute little well rounded ass. The whitest, most beautiful
butt I've ever seen. Even after just having popped a load, I was turned on
at the sight. We made small talk during the shower, mostly about my bad
dream, which took some of the sexual pressure off.

I managed to finish the shower with him and dry off without a problem. We
went back to the room and got dressed. After breakfast, the morning was
pretty much taken up with buying books. I bought used where I could. I
noticed Danny bought new. At lunch, the subject came up. Apparently, he was
also paying attention. I explained that, him being a rich white boy, money
wasn't a big deal to him.

"What makes you think I'm rich? Just because I'm white? You know nothing
about my family."

I thought about that for a few seconds. "You're right. We know nothing
about each other.  Maybe it's time we got acquainted. Where are you from?"

"Livingston. You?"

"Shit, Livingston, and you're not rich? Christ, you couldn't come from a
richer whiter town and you try to act like you're nothing? Try Central Ward
Newark if you want to be from nothing."

"I know Livingston is totally white and middle class and has a lot of kinda
rich people, but my neighborhood is just regular people. My father is a
cook in a company cafeteria and my Mom is a nurse. They don't make much
money."  "Then how come you're buying new books and I'm buying used?"  "I
worked the last two summers and worked weekends last year and my parents
made me put all the money into an account for college, then gave me a small
allowance to live on.  All the money I've come up with since I was a kid
has gone into my college account."

"Okay, maybe you're not rich, but you're white. My parents both work too,
Pop on a loading dock and Mama for the county. And I would have worked
summers too but in case you didn't notice, we had a bit of rioting in
Newark two years ago and no one hires black kids for nothin' now."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard for you. I didn't think."

"I don't want your pity, white boy."

"I didn't mean it that way. It's just that I've always felt like my family
was barely surviving, I didn't realize that some folks had it worse. How
about we talk about something else? What's your major?
 "English. How about you?"  "English? With that mouth?"

"Well, you can take the boy out of the streets, and sometimes you can take
the streets out of the boy. While I'm used to street talk with my old
buddies, I've also paid attention in English class and think it's really
cool how you can make the language work for you.  You can very subtly put
people down without them even realizing it, or you can get crude about it
and make sure they realize it. Use of language fascinates me."

"I never thought about it that way. I was always pretty good at grammar,
but then I did well in most subjects. I'm just majoring in Liberal Arts
right now until I know what I want. I like math and science, but then I
like history and politics too. So I'm not sure what I want to study."
"Sort of a jack of all trades, huh?"  "Yeah, I guess. So what do you want
to do this afternoon?"

"Back to the same old shit. Half my tuition is covered by a state grant,
and the terms of the grant are that I get a part-time job on campus, so
that is what I'll be doing this afternoon, looking for work."

"Sorry. I know, I've got to stop saying that. I hope you find something
decent that doesn't take up too much of your time."

Danny

At lunch, the irony of it all hit me. Billy and I are both reacting to each
other in the same way. Because I'm white, he thinks I'm rich. Because he's
black, I think he's
impoverished. Livingston-Newark. White-Black. Prejudice. Prejudging each
other based on so little information. But I realized that, financially, our
families are not that far apart.  Just that I had had an opportunity to
work and save that he hadn't. To be honest, even though I have money in the
bank for school, I'm still living off that small allowance from my
parents. I've been kind of hoping that I could find some way to make a few
bucks during the school year to pay for things my parents might not think
of.

Yeah, right, dreams are nice. Billy came back this afternoon with a job at
the Commons, washing dishes at minimum wage, $1.65 an hour, a horrible job
for horrible money putting him in a really bad frame of mind. I tried to
distract him by asking him about music, the record player and records he
had brought.

"Not exactly white boy music, but you might know some of it."

He'd only brought about a dozen albums and I did recognize most of them-the
Supremes, Temptations, Aretha Franklin. Some others that sounded familiar,
but I wasn't sure of- Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, B. B. King, Muddy
Waters.

"I'm into blues and jazz. How about you, white boy?" There was that sneer
again.

"I'm not very familiar with that. I'm crazy about the Beatles, and like the
Stones and Rascals, and some folk music, too, like Peter, Paul and Mary,
and Simon and Garfunkel."

"You're not into fuckin' country music, I hope." I was beginning not to
flinch as much every time he used that word.

"No. I mean, I liked `Ode to Billie Joe' and `Harper Valley PTA', (he
groaned) but most country music really turns me off."

"Well, maybe we can find some common ground."  "I like a lot of Motown
stuff and I really like Sly and the Family Stone."

"We'll get along a lot better if you don't try kissing up to me so much,
white boy."

Later, we took the campus bus over to the reception for freshman at the
University President's house and it was as boring as it sounded. We stood
on line forever and eventually shook hands with the president and his
wife. I have to give them credit, allowing hundreds of teens to roam
through their house (even though the university owned it). And they were
polite and pleasant to each and every one of us. But it was a relief to be
done with the receiving line and out in the back yard.

Billy and I pretty much stuck together, not knowing anyone else. After a
bit, I noticed this pretty girl staring at us. Normally, I don't pay much
attention to girls, not having any natural attraction, but she was sort of
exotic looking. Some kind of racial and ethnic mix, I couldn't quite figure
it out, but very pretty. Plus she had a camera hanging around her neck and
was taking pictures like crazy. So she kind of stood out and caught my
attention. She definitely caught Billy's eye.

He nudged me with his elbow and asked, "What do you think her story is? The
way she's taking pictures, you think maybe she's from a newspaper or
something? She looks too young to be working, but she doesn't seem to be
part of us. And man is she nice looking."

It felt like a heavy rock dropped into my gut. I mean, obviously, he's into
girls, isn't everyone? But for over 24 hours, it was just him and me. Not
that I was thinking of him that way, but maybe I was. But now here was this
girl even I knew was pretty, and at least part black and he noticed her. So
where did that leave me? Alone. Alone with my fantasies, fantasies that I
didn't even realize I had until that second.

I looked across the lawn and saw Joe and Bob and some other guys from the
dorm, talking and laughing with a few girls. Across the garden, I
recognized a couple of the black guys from the table at the Commons last
night, making moves on a couple of black girls. I just didn't belong
here. It was all guys and girls. Looking for each other. Probably what it
had been like all through high school, but fortunately back then, I was out
of things enough to not realize how out of it I was.

Lucy

What am I doing here? Last year it seemed like torture, going through the
motions of being welcomed as a freshman at Douglass College, the `girls'
school of Rutgers. But images keep flashing through my mind, as they always
have. Life has always seemed a series of still shots to me. So while my
freshman reception seemed so dull last year, I thought it might be more
interesting if I came back this year with my camera. There are so many
young kids just starting college with so many conflicting emotions so
evident on their faces. So much to catch in a frozen frame. But I keep
coming back to those two guys who seem so glued together. An unusual pair,
very much alike, yet so different. Twins of different races they seem to
be. A black guy and a white guy connected in some way, apart from the rest
of the crowd. And both so cute and sexy. Maybe that's why I keep looking at
them and taking pictures. Maybe I'm not the artist I think I am, just a
girl turned on by a couple of really sexy guys.

I had taken a few pictures of them when I realized they were both staring
at me. Feeling very self-conscious, I walked over to them to introduce
myself and explain.

"Hi, I'm Lucinda Santos. I hope you don't mind me taking your picture. I'm
a sophomore at Douglass and a fanatic amateur photographer. I remembered
all of the kids at my reception last year so I thought I'd come over and
see if I could get some good shots."

The black boy spoke up. "Hey Lucy, I'm William and this is my roommate
Danny. Nice to meet you."

"I don't mean to be rude, but it's Lucinda, not Lucy."

"But Lucy sounds more fun."

"In that case, I should call you Willie, maybe Wee Willie. Would that suit
you?"

I wasn't sure where this was coming from or where it was going. Were we
being bitchy to each other or just teasing? I know I meant it as a tease,
but I couldn't tell how he was taking it. And his friend hadn't said a word
yet, so I had no idea about him.

"I don't like Willie, and just for your own information, Wee would be
totally wrong. Just ask Danny."

At that, the white boy turned bright red. I couldn't believe a college boy
could be so easily embarrassed.  "Something I should know about, Danny?"

Still silent, Danny turned to William and looked totally confused.

"Sorry, Dan, didn't mean to put you on the spot." He turned back to
me. "It's just that we showered at the same time this morning, so he's the
one person here who can back me up."

By now, I was beginning to blush. Danny finally spoke up.

"I kinda like Lucy, too."

"Okay, if you guys insist, but I'm not gonna call you William, ever. How
about Billy?"

He looked at Danny a second and said, "Sorry, that's taken. I'll have to
give it some thought. In the meantime, it's either William or Hey You."

"Hey You it is then."

After that peculiar start, we seemed to fall into a fairly normal
conversation, exchanging some basic background information. William did
almost all of the talking, Danny only putting in a word or two now and
then. I was surprised to find out they had only met the day before. When I
first noticed them, they seemed like old friends, comfortable in each
other's presence, sharing a common bond. As I got to know them a little,
they seemed so different, I couldn't understand how they seemed to get
along so well.

Later, back in my room, I kept thinking about them. I had taken an instant
liking to both, though Danny's silence made him harder to get to know.
William had a tough exterior, but that faded after a few minutes. Danny was
obviously very shy, but also very sweet.  And they were both sexy as
hell. I thought back to William's comment about his not "wee willie" and
how it had embarrassed both Danny and me. But it kind of turned me on
too. I couldn't decide which I liked better. And I couldn't wait to get the
chance to see them again.